The Inquisitor's Woe
by MatchingTies
Summary: Inquisitor Everard Gerage has served the Emperor for over two centuries. His most recent investigation leads him to the fringe of Imperial space, and a confrontation between a dangerous cult leader. Madness follows and he finds himself in a new galaxy. One that preaches peace and tolerance. Everard must find a new purpose before all is destroyed by an ancient evil.
1. Chapter 1

Eons ago, long before mankind had left its cradle, the forces of Chaos existed. Twisted and incomprehensible to mortal minds, they fueled the endless madness of the forty-first millennium. For every soul they corrupted, and every emotion felt, only added to the power of Chaos. No matter how the forces of man struggled, their wars and conflict will not end the threat of Chaos, of damnation and the laughter of the thirsting dark-gods.

* * *

Hands resting lightly under his chin, Inquisitor Everard Gerage merely watched the battle over the hive world of Fortune. The images of explosions, void shields shimmering and innumerable gun ports firing was not something uncommon to his eyes. A single Murder Class cruiser remained after hours of spacial combat. Even now, the proud,but disgustingly corrupted form of the cruiser was reduced to a battered husk of its former self. Everard merely smiled grimly at the sight.

"All starboard gun batteries, fire. Death to the heretics" Captain Macclesius calmly ordered. His face was impassive, but confident. The vibration from thousands of weapons discharging could be felt throughout the ship."And prepare the Nova Cannon, I wish for this farce to be dealt with -"

"No" Everard shook his head, and made eye contact with the admiral, " I wish to capture this heretic, discover where the rest of his craven-ilk hides. Then destroy them. We cannot do that if we atomize them." _Although his zealousness is praiseworthy, it must be tempered with caution, very few men survive an encounter with daemons and traitors. _" For a decade, we have chased this heretic, and by the blessings of the Emperor, have the opportunity to end him. However, we must have patience. Macclesius, you have served me well through these years - from the fringe worlds to the galactic core - yet do not forget our purpose."

"We live to serve Him" Finished Macclesius, reclining slightly on his command throne. He smiled and nodded slightly with blood-thirsty determination in his eyes, " Very well. Gun crews, target their engines. I want them disabled and ready for boarding action. Victory to the Emperor's finest. Death to his enemies."

A chorus of acknowledgements stemmed from consoles. Macclesius relaxed, making eye contact with Everard, "Soon this will be over, a decade of service to the inquisition. Everard, I will prepare boarding torpedoes for yourself and some of my best men. As you know, victory here will be a crushing blow to the cult movement in this entire sub sector. The Emperor be with you."

"He always is," Everard raised himself and sighed quietly, "Heresy never ends, a cruel joke for a servant of the Emperor."

Macclesius continued to communicate through his command throne, ignoring the inquisitor as he left the bridge of the heavy cruiser.

* * *

Everard walked through the twisted and cold passageways of the heavy cruiser. It had served the Emperor's Will for hundreds of years, killed countless enemies, and for once it was oddly quiet. Hallways and corridors were completely devoid of life. Only the occasional rumble from impacts or energy discharges reminded him of the battle underway. _"For a decade, this is what I have sought. The end to the heretic Ballel, a thorn in the Inquisition's side. His leadership of the cult Arcadia and his corruption of the planetary government of Fortune have cost too many lives of loyal imperial servants... but why does he reveal himself now? How can he be so bold?" _So engrossed in thought Everard almost missed the entrance to armory. Mentally chiding himself, he walked towards the grey passage way that lead to his armor and weapons.

Entering the armory almost guaranteed a questioning from the Magos. Tech-priest were curious by nature, but also introverted to the extreme._ Almost like inquisitors._

"Greetings Lord Inquisitor" Came a synthesized voice, "The captain has informed me of your plans to board the cruiser. I believe that it is an unwise course of action, but Omnissiah willing, you will be successful in your en devour."Everard merely looked at the Magos. He almost smiled at their predictability. The Magos ignored the almost amused face of Everard and nodded, as if in thought, " Your armor will be ready shortly, the vox upgrades that you have requested have been installed with minimal difficulties."

"My thanks Magos Helliah, your work deserves far more praise than I give you. Your services to the inquisition will not be forgotten" Everard told, merely as if stating a simple fact. Sarcasm or praise did not truly matter from those not of the priesthood.

Magos Heliah, by human standards, was almost titanic in proportions. His body had been almost completely replaced with metal and alloys, even his face was an adamantium mask with glowing green irises. A red robe symbolized his association to the martian priest hood, effectively covering the rest of his augmentations and mechandrites. Truly, the tech-priests were an order to be admired, and feared. "Another word Inquisitor, if it pleases you"

Everard raised his eyebrows, rarely did the Magos ask him a question. Usually Everard would ask questions, and hope that he would be a satisfactory answer from the Magos. _Damned secretive._

"Where did you discover the vox amplifier? It appears to be a piece of archeotech, perhaps a remnant of the dark ago of technology. I could not scan the materials without running into interference, and the installation of this technology was far easier than anticipated. When testing its range and frequency, it was superior to even my interfaces and blessed circuits. This is a discovery that could benefit the Mechanicus, as well as the Imperium. If possible, after the conclusion of your mission, I would like to bring back the vox amplifier to mars for further study."

This was not what Everard was expecting. He narrowed his eyes, "The Mechanicus has many secrets, and power, some would say too much. If I were to agree with your proposal, how could I ensure that this archeotech would be distributed throughout the Imperium and not held in some vault on Mars? Even the agents of the Inquisition struggle to learn the mysteries and workings of the Martian priesthood, let alone what they do with sanctified technology."

Heliah's irises fluttered, as if guilty. "You have my word as Magos. The priesthood of Mars is many things, however, it is not dishonorable. We shall distribute this technology as a boon to the Imperium, and it shall better safeguard it from the threats of xenos, traitors and heretics." The Magos bobbed his head, as if agreeing with himself. _Interesting.__  
_

Knowing if the Magos learned of his own twisted amusement, he would no doubt be less accomadating, Everard looked away. Happy with his small victory over the Magos. He was lucky that Heliah was not as orthodox, or inflexible as some of the other tech-priests. They would have never allowed the implementation of advanced technology, or relics without Everard losing something of equal value._ If they lose knowledge, they lose power. And if they lose power, the Inquisition gains it._ Truly the Emperor had blessed him with an interesting retinue. "It seems that the terms are acceptable, soI accept. Now,as enjoyable as our brief discussion was, I hope that you understand that I do not have the pleasure of an extended visit. If the armor is done now, I wish to be suited in it - there is barely enough time to ready the boarding torpedoes without the threat of more heretics entering the system."

A green light illuminated the room, and the Magos immediately turned around, his artificial legs propelling him at a startling speed. Almost without thought he added, "Your armor is being cleaned and tested for errors, the room behind us will service as a fitting area. It will be ready momentarily, also your weapons will be brought to you. Keep in mind, proper prayers must be offered to it's machine spirits to keep it functional." With that said, the Magos left the room, and the door way sealed with a pneumatic hiss.

Without further ado, Everard marched into the fitting area, and ignored the three servitors who were most likely cleaning or testing his armor. Almost immediately after he entered, the tallest one turned to look at him. It was vaguely human, with half of it's "face" replaced with smooth metal, and the other half eerily blank. It's mouth did not move, but it vocalized a muttering of words so rapidly that the Inquisitor was taken aback.

"Apologies, speech has been calibrated for Inquisitor Everard Gerage. Please relax, allow the rituals of armament to begin, it shall take only a moment of time."

The actual procedure involved far too many scented candles, wax and scripts in Everard's opinion, but the Mechanicus was allowed these quirks because of their contributions to the Imperial war machine. After some time, his chest piece, shin piece and arm guards were placed. Hexogramic wards were inscribed tastefully in the armor to serve as protection against the pskyers that would be found on the heretic's ship. His armor itself was a drab-grey color, with little ornamentation as compared to some of the more affluent or vain members of the inquisition. It was not comparable to the fabled power armor of the space marines, but it was far superior to the rank-and-file flak vests worn by guardsmen. A single rosarius was embedded in his chest piece - a gift from his mentor at the beginning of his career.

"Where are my weapons servitor?"

Its raspy voice almost whispered, "They are being brought to you, the Magos was insistent that they be consecrated before your battle against the heretics."

Everard fought back an almost impulsive acknowledgement of what was said. Servitors had no mind for thanks, they only existed to serve the interests of their masters. Such things, while useful, were an eerie reminder of the alien ways of the Mechanicus. Without further pause, another servitor, almost identical to the first, brought a cloth-covered weapon. On spidery legs, it lurched towards him, and presented him with the weapon. Everard took great care in unwrapping it from its cloth sheath and his lips twitched upwards. A simple power sword, well made and unadorned. It's blade was grey, but did not shine. It was the weapon he had used throughout his two hundred and twenty years of service to the Emperor.

"Your Hell Pistol will also be brought to you. The Magos recommends not using it as a close-combat weapon, as its frame is not designed to fracture the skulls of Orks."

Even the servitors had some sense of humor, which almost made Everard shake his head. Years ago, the Magos had been quite angry when he had used his Hell pistol to bash the skull of an Ork Nob because he had been disarmed of his sword on some unremarkable world. And when it was brought to the attention of the Magos that his pistol did not function anymore, the Magos was understandably...furious. It took many days in order for him to even acknowledge Everard's existance, let alone repair the damned thing.

* * *

Luckily, there were no more errands to do before the boarding action against the heretics. Everard simply followed directions labelled at the end of hallways and corridors. A light jog in his armor sent tremors through the floor. Even though it was a basic form of powered armor, providing minimal augments, it was still quite heavy. Everard merely took frequent and deep breathes of the stale and recycled air of the naval ship. _Who knows if I'll get the opportunity to do so on board a ship marked by Chaos, or even if they can breathe on it_. Regardless, he was confident that Ballel would be killed by the end of the day.

"My Lord, the torpedoes are ready for launch, please follow me to the staging area." A small naval arms man greeted nervously. His small stature was completely shadowed by Everard, and his eyes glanced upwards at his intimidating form. "The Captain wishes to inform you that the heretic-cruiser is now disabled and venting atmosphere."

A small grunt of acknowledgement was all the arms man received before Everard marched past him.

The firing lines of the warship was nearly as long as the ship itself. Kilometers of guns, stacks of munitions and groups of slave-loading crews made a cacophony of sounds that grated on the Inquisitor's ears. Thankfully the largest of the lance batteries and cannons were silent, so the sounds were not truly deafening. Striding past the motley groups that sat around or were forced into exhaustive tasks by grueling task-masters only made Everard all the more eager to leave the ship. Near the gothic buttresses and alcoves was a single, albeit massive, boarding torpedo. Assembled outside of it was a mass of arms men, and a mixture of Everard's small retinue. The Magos was absent, leaving only the scarred and grizzled storm trooper Kessian, as well as his apprentice, the young Pskyer Media.

Kessian shouldered his hell gun, and waved his arms in a lazy salute. His helmet did not give away much facial expression, but the glint in his red eye pieces and his deceptively calm body position was only a sign of his eagerness to fight. In contrast, Media was a young girl from the habs of some forgotten was covered in a brown cloak that almost hid her entire body, and despite his urging, did not remove it. Everard only scouted her when on the chase for Ballel. Having an unsanctioned Pskyer was a dire risk, discovery meant condemnation and possibly death from the other more puritan member of the inquisition. Fortunately, Media has had no problems in controlling her cursed power. Blue eyes looked up to him "My Lord Everard...Is this where our investigation ends?" Her hands twitched slightly._ Adorable._

"Hmm" Everard drawled slightly "I would say so. Whether we live or die, we still do the Emperor's Will. The heretic Ballel will die, and his cult will be destroyed. If not by us, then by others. No one can escape the Emperor's Wrath, not even if they hide behind dark gods and evil deeds."

Media did not seem overly satisfied with that answer, and only lightly fingered her psykic inhibitor. A small ring that served as a way to limit the warp's pull on her soul, and give her the appearance of a sanctioned pskyer.

The various arms men snapped to attention around him. Las guns pointed in a traditional salute. Everard was almost surprised.

"Inquisitor, if I could have a word." The voice caused Everard to turn around sharply. The captain was a silent man, uncanny in his stealth. If his arms men did not salute, he would have been almost invisible. He stood at attention, only a dozen feet from him. But his eyes looked tired, and almost regretful, "This is the culmination of a decade of effort, a decade of investigations and chases. I remember the time you first commandeered my vessel for service in the Inquisition. I resisted as best as I could, and made you promise that at its conclusion, that I would be free. Although these years were anything but easy, I just wish to express how it was a pleasure to serve under you, "He chocked back a strangled cough," And how I wish you luck against the heretic. If I could do this again, then by the Emperor, I would." Captain Macclesius made the gesture of the aquilla, and moved forward to shake his hand."I would call you friend if you would allow it."

"I would" Everard gave him a firm hand shake, " I also wish to thank you and your crew for your service to me, to the inquisition, and to the Emperor. Truly, you are all exemplify the very nature of service to the Imperium. I will not forget your actions, and If I am ever in need of another vessel, I know who to contact. Only if you would have me aboard again."

The captain nodded and stepped back, "I have given you command of my best arms men, veterans of ship-to-ship combat. They will not be found wanting in your service." and with that, the captain left. Only Everard would never see him again.

* * *

**This is just an author's note. If you could tell, this is my first story. I am somewhat lazy (I'll freely admit), but I do not abandon my stories. I know how it feels to read a good story that has never been updated.**

**BTW italics means Everard's thoughts. This is an unorthodox writing style, and it may take some time getting used to. Please run with it.**

**That being said, updates may or may not be periodic. I will not have a schedule, so I'll post when I post.**

**I hope you enjoyed reading it.**

**PS I do not own Mass effect of Warhammer. They belong to Bioware and games workshop, respectively.**


	2. Chapter 2

Everard calmly walked towards the boarding torpedo, hardly paying attention to its cramped space and terrible smell. At his stature, he had to crouch down, the ceilings were tailored to the average human height. It was not designed for comfort, just functionality. _Just like the Imperium._

Inside the torpedo, one could only wait for combat, or for death. Everard was naturally a patient man, and over two centuries of service in the Inquisition had only honed those skills. However, he had always found that patience strained when waiting for combat. Waiting for the first bolter shell to fire, or for the first enemy to die. This kind of over-eagerness for combat could drive a lesser man insane. _Fortunately, I am no lesser man. _

The interior of the boarding torpedo was crowded, with the rest of the navy arms seated around Everard. They sat and chatted idly, preparing themselves for the horrors that they would face.

To his left, Kessian was seated. Gently disassembling and reassembling his hell gun. As a Storm Trooper, especially one in inquisitorial service, it is important to be able to do basic field repairs and checks on equipment. Mostly due to the fact that deployment areas of Storm Troopers are generally light years away from proper Mechanicus factories or repair yards. A gleaming bayonet was placed on the muzzle, solid adamantium, a gift from Everard. Without glancing at him, Kessian muttered a quiet "Sir" and continued to pay rapt attention to his weapons.

In contrast, Media was merely looking around the interior of the boarding torpedo, ignoring the view ports and the faint image of the heretic cruiser. At only twenty five years, she was an infant, and had only had a handful of previous deployments with the inquisitor. Still fingering her Psykic inhibitor as a nervous habit. Unlike Kessian, she looked up at Everard, causing him to smile slightly. Somewhat reassured, she started to quietly hum Imperial prayers and songs, to calm her uneasy spirit.

Still, the inhibitor ring was absolutely vital to Media. If it were disabled or removed, the consequences would be dire. Even sanctioned Psykers were in grave danger if they were present on a corrupted vessel, facing demonic and heretical forces. Exponentially so for unsanctioned ones. Everard hummed slightly to himself.

_Something that even the most radical and unstable of Inquisitors would protest. Bringing an unsanctioned Pskyer, who has never truly fought a battle against Chaos, into the heart of madness. I would be declared mad by my peers, perhaps I am. The dangers of the warp are incomprehensible, let alone the consequences of what I am about to do._

"Media, are you absolutely confident in your abilities to locate Ballel?" Everard's serious voice brought Media out of her musing. Her eyes flickered with uncertainty.

"I think so. I feel his presence in the warp. It is a flickering light, dim at one moment and bright at another. At least I think it's him. And the ship is large, so I cannot locate him precisely, only his general whereabouts." Media quickly added, "But he is still by the command bridge, his presence stays there."

"And what of the other heretics? Surely there must be a sizable force on that crusier."

"I am sorry Inquisitor, but I cannot sense any others." Media added, a tad ominously.

Everard grunted his thanks. He was not a conversationalist by any means, and wasting words was something lost on him.

"Attention boarding crews, this is Captain Macclesius. The heretic vessel is disabled, but still dangerous. The overconfident and foolish die first. Remember, keep you wits about you, keep your faith in Him, and kill as many of those damned traitors as possible before you greet Him." The voice paused, his pitch turned low and dangerous, "for over a decade,we have chased this traitor across the Imperium. Countless xenos, mutants and heretics have opposed us during this righteous journey. We have emerged victorious in every instance! From the jungles of Bethan, the deserts of Nuban, and to the space of Fortune, truly He is with us! Now, the culmination of a decade of work, a decade of struggle and a decade of sacrifice. Him and his whole Emperor-forsaken cult are going to die! For the Emperor! For the Imperium!"

The boarding torpedo exploded into noises praising the Emperor, cursing the Heretics and shouts of eagerness. They were ready.

Everard looked towards where the voice came from, "Launch the torpedoes Captain." And without another sound, the torpedoes were launched at a rapid speed, towards their final confrontation.

* * *

The actual launch was smoother than anticipated. Only a sudden jerk, and release from the torpedo locks was any indication that they had begun to move. Small side view ports were only a nominal help in tracking their progress. Only the small, yet slowly increasing size of the heretic cruiser was any help at indicating how much longer the journey would take. The automated servos would make gentle corrections in their flight path at Media's urging.

"We need to move left, only slightly. Towards the largest tower of the cruiser." And the torpedo responded, its engines compensating and gently changing its trajectory. All else was quiet in the vacuum of space.

The speed the torpedo moved at seemed almost leisurely. The enthusiasm and resolve that Macclesius first inspired had worn down after minutes of silence.

Everad only closed his eyes. Ignoring Media, ignoring Kessian. This was as good a time as any to relax, the proverbial calm before the warp storm._ Emperor knows that I haven't had a chance to relax in months._

Then the torpedo shook with a sudden impact, silencing Meida's quiet rambling and startling Everard. The arms men were visibly distressed, tensing at the possibility of dying in the cold vacuum of space, everything out of their control. Helplessness was something that no man wanted to feel. _Their auxiliary defenses must still be functional, we must be close. _Everard grimly smiled, something that he was doing far more often as of late._ I suppose peace for more than a few fleeting moments is all that I am entitled to. However, the men are worried, perhaps a few words will strengthen their spirits._

Everard looked around the torpedo, looking at each of the men, "Warriorsof the Imperium, listen to my words."

At once, the everyone looked at him. Eyes snapped to attention, ears opened. "Macclesius has already told you; for a decade, we have hunted this vile heretic. For a decade, he has avoided the Emperor's justice. Countless loyal citizens have suffered at his hands! Countless planets have fallen to fear and heresy! What you were not told, was the importance of his death. The cult Arcadia has spread far more rapidly than any other cult-scum in the entire segmentum. If he escapes today to spread this heresy, uncountable billions will die a fate worse than death!"

Everard took a deep breath. _Public speaking is the job of a confessor, not an Inquisitor._ "But we are here for a reason. The Emperor has guided us on our holy task. Every victory is a sign of His blessings and favor. He does not abandon us, His servants, in times of need! With Him at our side, we are invincible!"

The navy had countless idioms for its members. Two centuries of service to the Emperor will teach a man some that are dark, some that are humorous, and some that are abstract. Everard raised his voice, choosing one of the shorter ones, "The Emperor points and we obey!"

At once the arms men repeated, "Through the warp and far away!" _Completely appropriate for swabbies. _Everard gave them a small, but genuine smile.

"Warriors of the Emperor, today we fight! Kill! and if we die, we die standing! For the Emperor!"

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" the voices were nearly overwhelming. Faith and fury can motivate a man to do amazing things. Weapons were pulled out, and prayers were sung._ They were ready for war. I hope that I am as well._

The explosions increased in tempo. A bulkhead strained with the pressure, denting the upper compartments. Still, the men were unwavering. The lights inside the torpedo turned a dark amber, causing the occupants to stand up. Fingers lightly drummed the stocks of las guns. Bayonets were clipped to barrels. A humming sound was all the indication given before the light turned a fluorescent-green. The whole torpedo shook violently, causing its occupants to stumble around. The torpedo impacted, its war head penetrating deep into the cruiser's hull. Drilling arms extended, cutting around the entrance way. The sound of drilling bores into its adamantium hull were dampened to a dull whine. Only seconds had passed, before the torpedo immediately stopped, its nose opening, and exposing all those inside to the horrors of a daemonic vessel.

* * *

Everard was the first to step outside the torpedo. Luckily, the rebreathers provided blocked the smell of the vessel, something that Everard was immensely grateful for. Even with no visible light source, the corrupted vessel's interior was not dim. The walls and flooring was covered in flesh. Pulsing veins and arteries covered the interior in a blue and red membrane. It was like standing in the stomach of some ungainly creature, it even looked as if the flesh quivered slightly at the presence of the intruders. When Evereard walked through the passageway, it expanded. towards him. _Most likely to reach out towards us. Disgusting filth. _

The arms men carried themselves professionally, ignoring the grotesque sights. Everard was impressed. Ignoring the corrupting nature of Chaos was something even he struggled with, however, they were understandably nervous. "Take care to remain close to one another. Those who are isolated are the first to die. No matter what you encounter, remember we are here to kill a heretic, nothing more." Everard knew it was common knowledge, but even a casual reminder of the mission could the difference between a man driven to insanity, and a loyal servant of the Emperor.

At once, they organized themselves into small fire teams. Everard and his small retinue would be leading the incursion into the vessel. When Media entered the vessel, the walls visibly shook in protest. A faint groaning could be heard from the bowels of the vessel. "Watch yourself. Pskyers are a valuable prize to those who worship Chaos. Be on your guard Media, for you are the most vulnerable to it."

She nodded, acknowledging the threat without another word. _Smart Girl_.

"This vessel is alive, Inquisitor, " Media began," and I can read its lay about as if it were written on a data slab. The passage way in front of us leads directly to the effective command bridge. We have bypassed several large rooms which had served as barracks." She paused, as if in thought, "Although the entire ship is strangely empty. And I sense no response to our presence, no movement of troops or anything. The other torpedoes have entered the engine rooms, life supports and docking bays. They have met no resistance as of yet, and are working to secure the areas."

"Then we must be cautious. Chaos is rarely anything but dangerous, be on your guard." Everard commented. Without further pause, he walked forward. Kessian followed with a lazy gait, closely eyeing his footing. Ever step brought them closer to the gates of hell itself.

* * *

Any Inquisitor worth his gear knows the dangers of Chaos, which is why Everard was especially cautious. _Still without battle. This makes no sense, but when does Chaos ever truly make sense._ It was puzzling, and Everard hated puzzles.

The hallways of the ship grew dimmer, but broader. Whereas at the start, only three men could stand abreast, now easily five could. The constant march of boots on a fleshy surface echoed throughout the passage ways. Everard's hand lay on the pommel of his power sword, ready to draw it at a moments notice.

"Ah, Everard Gerage. A pleasure to see you again." A rich, deep voice rumbled through the hull of the ship, "Continue onward, my friend, into my sanctum. Find me."

Everard's skin prickled with hatred, he sped up his pace, "Ballel, your death will be most satisfying. Your mewling slaves lie dead, only a handful of your heretics remain on isolated planets. Unlike them, I shall not grant you a swift death."

"Always the most amusing of banter, my dear Everard. However, did you not think it unusual that no one else has greeted you thus far? Why you have gone so far uncontested?" The voice sounded vaguely amused.

"I do not pretend to know what thoughts go through your craven mind heretic! Your thoughts are blasphemy! Your existence is an insult to His light! Only your death will grant me satisfaction!" Everard declared._ His confidence leaves me wary. What has he planned?_

Ballel's chilling laughter rebounded throughout the entire ship. "Oh foolish one. I sacrificed all those weaklings to further my own strength! With their blood, I have transcended mortality!"His voice dripped with malice, "And your sacrifice will be the greatest of all. Come to me, feel the glory of CHAOS UNDIVIDED!"

Everard's brow broke into a cold sweat. _Daemonhood? Impossible! Such a transformation should not be possible! _"Men, hurry! We have little time before this heretic corrupts the entire sub sector. Failure means the damnation of billions of souls!"

He broke into a full sprint, his body augmented by his power armor propelled him at speeds impossible to normal men. Each step brought him closer to the heretic, and closer to his final retribution. It was not long before he had out ran his entire retinue and guard compliment, but Everard paid this no mind. _The only thing that matters is in front of me._ The corridor's fleshy decor seemed to grow in size the closer he went to the bridge. Arteries began to ooze the blood which they carried. _Ballel must be worried, he has increased the rate of the blood flow. I have even less time that I thought I did. Frak.__  
_

"Everard!" Media's voice was faint, far away, "Wait for us! You cannot defeat him by yourself! His power grows every second, please, wait!"

He merely grunted._ There is no time._

The hall way ended, surprisingly, there was bare metal on the floor and walls. No flesh or foul blood, although it was a bare hall way now. It was dark, only the faint ceiling lights provided a dim outline. Yet in this darkness, Ballel merely smiled. His inhuman body twisted in anticipation of the flesh and blood he was going to feast on.

* * *

The hallways lead to a large circular room. A central command throne was seated on a raised platform. It had a circular vase on its dais, with chains bolted to the flooring, and the entire assembly shook slightly. Although the throne itself was clean, the surrounding area was not. The ground was layered with skulls, blood and artifacts of daemonic power. The area glowed, pulsed and surged with unholy energies. Surrounding this was a semi-circular row of archaic machines. The faces of screaming men and women replaced their view screens. _No doubt to run this damned cruiser. _

He walked forward, scanning the command bridge for a sign of Ballel. _  
_

"Ah Everard, how pleasant of you to join me" Ballel's voice mocked Everard, "it is saddening that your corpse-Emperor cannot save you now"

Everard turned around. Ballel's figure appeared before him. His body was hunched, as if in pain, but covered in a bloody cloak. A single long and sinuous arm ran out of the cloak, it had blades for fingers and dripped with blood. Although his eyes could not be seen, Everard knew Ballel was watching him.

"I would be most displeased if your pathetic retinue disturbed us, so I have taken the necessary precautions in order to stop them." Without a gesture, a power field separated the command bridge from the passage way. Everard cursed, his chances of victory were slim enough with retinue. "Although you may hate me, I greatly respect you. It takes tenacity to pursue one such as myself. I would ask you to follow me, but that would be a waste of time for the both of us."

"Curse your vile ways heretic! Your very presence offends me!" Everard began, but huffed slightly. His eyes glazed over, Ballel was intrigued, "I need to know one thing before your death."

Ballel merely tilted his face, a visibly bloody and sharp smile appeared. Everard continued,"You betrayed your family, your profession and dreams. Why? What drove you to this madness?" His voice broke out, barely a whisper, "Why did you betray me?"

Ballel merely chucked,"Oh foolish apprentice, did you forget when I first chose you? How your eyes gleamed with wonder, with happiness when rescued from the orphanages?"His voice grew twisted and cruel, "I needed your love, loyalty, devotion in order to gain this power. Every action you did, every though you had, I molded you. You are everything that I could have hoped for in an apprentice, so I wish to thank you before I kill you."

Everard merely looked at him, cold hatred in my eyes, "I have already decided to kill you, but you did not answer my question. Why?"

Ballel hummed, then was silent. Everard tensed, waiting.

"Because of power. If I sacrificed you to the dark gods, then I would transcend mortality. I would have truly unlimited power. Unrestricted by the unwritten rules of the Inquisition. I would have freedom from the corpse-Emperor's service. I would be a GOD!" Ballel's laughter rang through the bridge, cruel and mocking.

_Then die._ Everard charged, power sword raised over his head. Ballel lept back, faster than he thought possible. Everard pulled out his Hell Pistol, firing. Ruby red lasers seemed to impact Ballel, but all he did was chuckle. _Impossible! Even ceramerite can be penetrated by this weapon!" _

Everard closed the distance, holstering his pistol. It would not help him in this fight. Sword swinging, he struck Ballel's neck, only for his bladed hand to intercept. "If only you had your pathetic retinue with you, then maybe you would have a chance" Ballel taunted, " Even your apprentice is not as large a failure as yourself. She is far more powerful than you will ever be, maybe I should have chosen her." Ballel countered with a flashing of his arms, claws flying though his cloak. Everard countered desperately, but it was a losing battle. His rosarius would not stop Ballel's physical attacks.

Everard silently roared his frustration. He needed help, or he would die. His boot kicked Ballel away from him. _He can block power weapons? What manner of sorcery is this? He said only a psyker could harm him. I need Media.__  
_

He braced himself for Ballel's opportunity to attack him. His only option was to wait for the rest of his retinue to arrive. Without warning, Ballel launched himself with corrupted legs, tackling him. His bloody cloak fluttering around him. Everard almost gagged. Ballel's face had changed greatly with the corruption of his body. Rotted flesh dripped from his face, his nose was gone, replaced by a sunken hole. One eye was blood red, the other a deep purple. Everard was disgusted. "Behold the power of Chaos undivided. Four blessings from four dark gods! perfection through power!"

Pain. Inescapable pain. Ballel's bladed arm penetrated his shoulder blade, between his pauldrons. He gasped, fiery agony coursed through his body. Ballel continued to laugh. _He was succumbed to m__adness, pure madness. To think that I once trusted this heretic._ _  
_

With his other hand, he launched a desperate punch at Ballel's jaw. Although this would have sent a normal man flying, it merely knocked Ballel over. Rushing to his feet, Everard glanced at his ruined shoulder, and useless arm. His power sword lay in front of him, but he could not use it effectively with his non dominant hand. He narrowed his eyes. _The power field must be disabled if I am to escape. The must be connected to a power source in order to function. Disrupting the power field while the ship is disabled will cause problems. The link between the power station and all vital systems passes through that junction. If stopped, it is possible for the geller field, warp drive and weapons stations to fail._

Everard grabbed his sword with his left hand, and slowly backed away from Ballel's prone form. Waiting for the attack.

"Everard!" Media's voice broke his focus. He turned and saw Kessian fingering his hell gun, eagerness to do battle against a corrupted Inquisitor almost made him smile. Media was directly behind him, her eyes furrowed and brow sweating. Her eyes were concentrated on Ballel's form. _Perhaps she is holding him down. _The rest of the arms men waited behind them.

"Media, if you're holding this bastard down, keep doing it." Media's face scrunched, sweat and blood leaking from her eyes and ears."I'm trying, dammit! Hurry Up!"

Nodding his thanks, he rushed to the center command throne. Climbing the steps as rapidly as his tired body could carry him. Without thought, he jammed his power sword through the throne, shattering the vase in the process. The electrical discharge blew him away, causing the ship to groan in protest. The power field immediately dissipated, and the lights dimmed as the ship reverted to emergency power. "Fool, do you know what you have done?" Ballel's mad voice rang out, "You have unshackled my ship. MY SHIP!" He rose, causing Media to fall over in pain. Her blood leaking onto the floor. "It will devour our souls! I cannot control it any longer!"

Kessian fired immediately, targeting Ballel's eyes. The high powered lasers vaporizing their target. Ballel roared with pain, and collapsed, covering his face with clawed hands. The arms men fired with their las guns, dozens of lasers continued to mark Ballel, adding to the smell of ozone. Everard merely looked down, and smiled. _The Bastard should be dead. If not, Macclesius will blow this damned ship to the warp._

A black cloud rose from the remains of the throne, shaping itself into a vaguely humanoid form"**Ballel,**_** you have failed. Your Soul Is Mine!"** _

The las guns stopped firing. Everard looked shocked. Smoke descended on Ballel, the ground it touched transformed into the same fleshy substance as the hallways. The smoke muffled Ballel's cries, smothering in a black cocoon. It swirled around him, highlights of purple, and red flashed in this storm of darkness. _A sign of daemonic possession! _

"Stay back, all of you!" Everard shouted. A look of panic on his face. "Call Macclesius, destroy this ship! vaporize the remains! This taint cannot spread!" He did not wait for a reply.

"**HE-HA-HA-HA!" **The voice, raging like a storm, almost burst his ear drums. Blood leaked from his ears, Everard closed his eyes, focusing on the threat of death rather than the pain. Some of the arms men lie on the ground, either dead or unconscious. Either way, the combat power of his group was significantly reduced.

"**Ballel's slavery has ended! Your corpse-Emperor will not save you Mortals! Your souls will only add to my powers!"** The fleshy tumor burst, and out came the daemon. His form was impossible, beyond mortal comprehension. It was vaguely humanoid, albeit slightly taller than a space marine. It was covered in a dark chest piece adorned with the screaming faces of previous victims. The eight pointed star of chaos was proudly displayed. Long arms extended from the armor, bending impossibly compared to a normal creature, with a twisted staff in hand. It had the face of a bird, with a blade-like beak and black eyes. A daemon of Tzeentch. _Thankfully not a greater daemon._

"You're the daemon possessing this ship? One of Tzeentch " Everard cursed, "Ballel's foolishness knows no bounds." Everard raised his power sword, grimacing in pain."Come Daemon, meet the Emperor's fury! Fall back into the darkness!"

The daemon's black eyes looked at Everard, it's staff moved quickly. Warp fire spewed from the end, launched at an incredible speed. The hexogrammic wards on his armor prevented the worst of the damage, but it was still blisteringly hot. The daemon looked on in annoyance. It's staff shifted, like water, into a jagged and corrupted sword._ Daemons of Tzeentch are not known for their ability to fight in close combat, however, they are rarely this forward. It must be planning something._

Everard made his way down the stairs of the command throne, trying to keep closer to his retinue. The daemon simply lunged forward at a startling speed, causing Everard. He raised his power sword in a sluggish attack, which was easily batted away by the possessed body of Ballel.

"Everad, move away!" He knelled as fast as he could, and a warm feeling passed over him, but the daemon howled in agony. His corrupted body appeared to be burning away, disintegrated by a golden light. "Kill it!"

Everard heard the sounds of las fire, and the heavier whine of Kessian's hell gun. His eyes focused on the daemon, he got up slowly.

**"****FOOLISH!" **The daemon roared, "**YOU CANNOT STOP CHAOS!" **The golden light began to fade. It's body began to materialize, limbs slowly regrowing. The las fire was completely ineffective at stopping this.

Media collapsed from the struggle, her psykic inhibitor ring shattering. Without pause, the daemon unleashed his hellish warp fire. Kessian managed to roll away, however, several arms men were caught in it. Their screams of pain were fortunately short lived. Knowing of the ineffectiveness of his weapon, Kessian charged, bayonet raised to impale the possessed Ballel. Instead of retreating, as a daemon on Tzeentch should, it charged forward. Kessian was taken by surprise, and was almost thrown away from the force of the charge. He instead pushed his feet into the fleshy ground, digging into it with his combat boots. The sword - cane of the daemon was parried quickly by Kessian.

Each time the daemon swung it's weapon, Kessian was ready to react. His experience in combat was paying dividends, yet low-handed tricks were not above a minion of Tzeentch. It forced Kessian backwards with Psykic power, and triggered the activation runes of Kessian's grenades. The Daemon roared its triumph as Kessian was erased from existence. The explosion shook the entire bridge, and the shock from the blast caused Everard's injured body to collapse.

Everard was losing consciousness. The arms men continued to fight, but against this foe, it was meaningless. The rapid fire of las guns eventually ended. His vision swam with black dots, yet he fought it back. Forcing himself to remain awake, until his inevitable death. _  
_

The vessel shook. The impactsfrom lance batteries shattered the super structure of the vessel. Explosions ripped through the decks of the cruiser, gutting it. Glaring klaxons, and alarms attested to the damage that the Imperial captain had dealt to the corrupted vessel. _Macclesius has avenged us. Emperor bless his soul. _

He struggled to stand, yet all he could do was kneel. _Pitiful_. He could not even hold his sword. All he could do was face his death with a glare on his face, and a prayer in his heart. _Emperor forgive me for my failure. I could not banish the daemon, I could not stop the corruption of Ballel. I wish only to atone for these failings with my death, and the death of the enemy._

"It is over daemon. Your corrupted self will be banished back into the warp." Everard's icy voice broke the silence of the bridge,"Even if you come again, the warriors of the Emperor will stop you again, and again, until the end of times. I may die this day, but my sacrifice will be mirrored until the end of time by countless other heroes. You may speak of power, but there is no force that is greater than the courage and faith of humanity."

The daemon laughed, "**You speak of things you do not understand. Chaos is everywhere, and has existed far before your precious Imperium. It bides it's time, waiting to strike. Not you, nor your false-Emperor can stop Chaos. We are GODS!**"

With that said, the daemon walked forwards. Everad's pride prevented him from falling down again. Each step the daemon took was slow, his doom approached. It snorted, as if amused by Everard's hatred and disgust,"**You were not difficult to defeat, nor was your retinue. If you represent your Inquisition, I pity the future of your Imperium in the near future.**"

"I care not for your pointless banter, if you wish to kill me, so be it. I will not beg for mercy from you, scum." Everard closed his eyes, ignoring the presence of the daemon. _A final, if childish, insult to it. How droll. _

A burning sensation was by his throat._ Most likely his blade-staff._ Still, Everard did not move, or open his eyes. He merely waited.

"EVERARD!" Media's voice broke out, panicked. The blade was swiftly removed. He opened his eyes, watching how Media stood in front of the personification of hell and terror. Pride welled in his stomach,_ Well done girl. Fight until you cannot any longer._

She launched all manner of warp attacks. Psykic lighting that could melt ceramerite only burned its skin. Hellish frost blasts did not deter it either. Each attack caused Media to shake, blood dripping from her eyes and ears. Still she attacked, no longer able to use the purifying power of the Emperor's light. It was lost to her the moment her ring shattered. The daemon countered her attacks easily, as warp-based sorcery was one of it's strengths. Yet even then, Media struggled valiantly, holding off a daemon that many better trained psykers would have been able to. However, Everad was troubled by this. _Attacks of the warp will not harm those who come from it. The more she uses those powers, the harder it will be to resist._

Explosions continued to shake the cruiser, but destroying a thoroughly corrupted cruiser took far longer than Everard would like. The supporting struts and columns collapsed under their weight, the ground shifted to compensate for the stress of constant bombardment. Despite these distractions, he continued to watch his apprentice battle the daemon, unable to help in any way._ Helplessness is an alien feeling to me. _He tightened his hand into a fist._ I do not like it._

Media began to cry out desperately, her soul was being torn by the corrupted Ballel. The stress of using warp energy for prolonged periods of time usually ended in the death of the wielder. Everard winced, but could do nothing_. _Her body crumbled, her limbs dissipating like sand in a storm. Even through this physical and mental anguish, her eyes shone with a righteous hatred, never glancing away form the daemon. "I may die daemon. But so shall you!"

It merely laughed, amused by her struggles. "**Truly, humans are contemptible beings. Struggling against the inevitable, doomed to fail. How pathetic."** It raised a corrupted hand towards her, and gestured slightly. _  
_

Media screamed. It was a sound that could not be made by those untouched by the warp. It was calm and aggressive, primal and civilized, one of both pain and joy. It changed pitches, from a low growl to a high squeak. Everard Shivered. _  
_

The ship groaned in protest. Media's psykic powers and Macclesius' assault proved to much for the aging cruiser. It's decks ripped apart in a spectacular fashion. Atmosphere was vented, the ship was ripped apart from secondary explosions. All Everard felt was a sense of peace. _I have done my duty to the Emperor. I have served him until death. I do not regret anything._

The warp is anything except predicable. The destruction of the warp drives drew the vessel into warp space. The ripples from Media's unleashed psykic potential had brought the attention of the dark gods. Even more so when she had fought one of the daemons of Tzeentch. Malevolent energies bent the fabric of space. Time, space and logic meant nothing to them, no place was safe from their power. Everard would be written as another fallen hero, one who died in His name. Nothing could be father from the truth.

* * *

Everad's eyes opened slightly. His vision was blurred, his body was in pain. He could not even move his body. All he could see at the moment, was a group of silhouetted figures, basked in an outdoor light. He heard a gasp in front of him. _Sounds female, how strange. Perhaps I have entered the Emperor's rest. His hall of heroes for His servants. _ Everard smiled, this was proof of his devotion and loyalty to the Emperor, that his sacrifice would be rewarded.

Then his eyes adjusted to the scenery. Instead of a human woman, it was a blue xeno. One with wide eyes, an open mouth, and a growth over it's head. And there was a crowd of them. Everard could only gasp in horror. His muscles tightened, but he could not move.

Other xenos crowded around him, looking at his battered body. Some looked like the a mix of a human with an amphibian, others were like the jelly fish that existed on temperate worlds. Even in this den of xenos, he found the faces of humans. _Heresy! _

He struggled to remain awake, to fight resist what these Xenos would do to him. But he could not, his body simply shut down. Before he lost consciousness, his last thought was 'Frak Me'.

* * *

**This is the second chapter, which came out reasonably early. **

**I appreciate the time and effort that people took to read my story, and to review it if they felt it was worth their time. It really means a lot to me.**

**BTW I do not own Mass effect, nor Warhammer, they belong to Bioware and Games work shop, respectively. **

**Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

Eveard was exhausted and in extreme pain, but he was still alive. _Strange._

In his experience, the only xenos that took prisoners were those who later tortured and killed them to prevent their souls from being claimed by She Who Thirsts. Everard was no space marine, he felt a small amount of fear and apprehension at his situation, before ruthlessly crushing that emotion. He would not succumb to despair. He forced himself to awaken, straining against his body's protests. One eye groggily opened.

He was in a small, rectangular room which was brightly lite. Large unframed windows gave a stunning view of the outdoor area. A clear lake that shimmered with glittering lights, several parks with rectangular hab structures neatly organized into stacked rows. There was even no detectable air pollution from manufactoriums. It was peaceful, clean and utterly alien to Everard. He looked closer, seeing foul xenos walking with humans, talking with humans, even holding hands. _Heresy! Blasphemous Filth!_

In the distance and skylines hundreds of air cars drove by in a semi-orderly fashion with hundreds of colors and models. The horizon was filled with long arms that reached outwards into space with yellow, blue and red lights tightly packed. Outside of those arms, a clear view of a local nebula shone._ A space station, and one of the largest that I have ever seen._ It would have had to be dozens of kilometers in either direction, and if it were an Imperial creation, Everard would have been impressed. _But it is infested with heretics and xenos, it is an abomination of techno heresy and a symbol of this revolting civilization. It should burn for it's offence against the Emperor. __  
_

Everard's musing was interrupted by the whirring sound of an opening door. He turned, and almost passed out from the burning agony of the small movement. It was like flesh smiths had rearranged all of his neck musles and tendons, stitched them on backwards and doused the wound in grox shit. Yet he still managed to stay awake, barley.

A human male entered the room, holding a data slate with him. He was slightly above the average imperial height, but he was not broad. Slightly pale skin mixed with neatly trimmed black hair, and clean orderly uniform gave the impression of vague professionalism, but too much time spent indoors. His eyes were a dark brown, which were focused entirely on Everard.

Everard's eyes met the man's, and silence dragged on between them. Everard's hands curled into a fist, it was one of the only actions that he could do without mind-rending pain. _I am at their mercy, how pitiful for an inquisitor like myself. __  
_

The man tapped his data slate a handful of times, then immediately turned around and left the room, leaving Everard alone once more.

* * *

Hours must of passed, yet no one else had intruded on him. Everard's body had recovered somewhat, allowing him to move his body sluggishly. The first thing that he noticed was that he was still in his damaged armor, his rosarius still glowing slightly by his chest. No blankets or covers were on his body. Fortunately the locking seals on his armor were untouched. Everard was thankful that only those trained to remove power armor were able remove it. The auto injectors housed within had been releasing proteins and nutrients to help augment his body's healing process, though not without pain. Then another interesting thing that he noticed was the number of needles, or tubes that were embedded in his body. In his neck, and exposed shoulder blade, feeding a gel-like substance into his body. Everard was appalled. _  
_

_Even an incapacitated Inquisitor was not a useless one, they will pay for underestimating me._ Yet he could not locate his weapons, something which greatly troubled him.

Moving was still painful for him, but not nearly to the degree that it had been a few hours earlier. However, his mind was still sharp despite his condition. _I do not know where I am, or what these heretics plan to do with me. I need to escape, find a ship and contact the nearest Imperial outpost. _

His mind was set, but he could not leave yet. his body was too damaged to even attempt an escape, and even if he did, he could only offer minute resistance to his captors. _  
_

He was not hungry or thirsty._ Thankfully._ Most likely due to the necessary nutrients and liquids being fed to him via the needles in his body. It was a new experience for Everard, and one he was quite uncomfortable with.

Despite his situation, Everard was starting to feel the very human feeling of boredom. There was nothing to do in this prison of a room. He was constantly taunted by the thin glass that separated him from freedom. _Perhaps this is their intention, to mock me with this guise of freedom, then before I am able to escape, destroy me. _

With nothing else to do, Everard rested as best as he could. Waiting for an opportunity to escape.

* * *

He was brought to attention by something prodding his face lightly. It was the same man as before, albeit with a orange and glowing apparatus on his right wrist. He said something unintelligible. Everard just glared at him. The man tried again, this time, the language was different. He tried a third time, and gestured, as if prompting Everard to speak. He did not.

The man appeared to be somewhat frustrated. _Good. _

This continued for some time, and each exchange left the man even more annoyed than the previous attempt. But Everad's ears perked up, as the man said something vaguely intelligible. An archaic and highly-accented dialect of High-Gothic.

"Heretic" Everard growled, "Do not presume to mock the holy language of the Imperium. Your vile tongue does offence to the Emperor."

The man was taken aback, visibly startled, but his face contorted in confusion. He started touching the interface on his arm. He started speaking, slowly and the interface translated what was said into High-Gothic. "Can you understand me? Nod if you can, shake your head if you cannot."

To Everard's surprise, the more the man spoke, the clearer the voice became. "Sir, do you know where you are right now?"_  
_

"Silence heretic, your words and false concern cannot trick me. You consort with the xenos, disgusting abominations against the Emperor's will, and will be damned when the He judges your soul." Everard's eyes were cold with hatred.

The man practically fled out of the room, closing the doors behind him with a pneumatic hiss. _Well, at least that was amusing._

A handful of minutes passed, and doors once again hissed open. Instead of the man, a blue-skinned xeno entered the room. It was dressed similarly to the man, with the white uniform of a medical orderly. The difference was it's distinctly feminine appearance, and human-like facial features. Only it's skin color and the crest on top of it's skull differentiated it from the holy form of man. This creature also held the same glowing apparatus as the man before. It's mouth opened and said something, the device translated a moment later into understandable High-Gothic.

"Doctor Rutherford has informed me that you have awoken. He was the man you first met, and my name is Doctor Hesana, its my pleasure to meet you." The xeno smiled, "You are a very lucky man to be alive with the injuries that you came here with."

Everard did not answer, and looked away. _If I were not so injured, I would have killed this wretched creature the moment it entered this room._

It tried again, "There are no medical records, personal statements, or history. In Citadel data banks, you don't even exist. Please, we need to know who you are. Can you give me your name?"

Everard remained silent.

"Then we'll have to send you back to the Alliance for further treatment, the Citadel cannot have people without their identity or travel visa." The xeno continued, "It would be a bad policy if unknown's could travel unrestricted on the heart of galactic power."

This peaked his interest, and his voice growled. "This is the hub of galactic power? This station?"

The xeno looked almost astonished by his ignorance, "Of course, for thousands of years the Citadel has served as a beacon of peace and prosperity for all races to unite under. I didn't know the Alliance education system was quite so poor."

Eveard looked at the xeno's eyes, "What do you mean by Alliance? Another faction like your kind?"

It's eyes widened at this, "No, not at all. The System Alliance represents your kind, the human government. Did your injuries erase your memories? No wonder you were so confused about the Citadel." It nodded, as if confirming the fact.

_So, an entire organized government of heretics and xenos, with the gall to claim dominion of the galaxy! Only the servants of the Emperor can claim that. _Everard was silently furious, but reigned in his temper. _Humanity must be shown it's rightful place among in the galaxy._ "Where is the nearest Alliance outpost, I must contact them as soon as possible. This is a matter of vital importance." Everard's voice was clipped, cold even.

"I can't allow you to leave just yet, first I have to send the message to Arcturus Station to clear you for removal from the Citadel, then get clearance from the hospital staff to move you. It can take weeks to get you transferred to Alliance-space, even with the required documents. I am sorry, but you must stay for a little while longer." The xeno sounded apologetic. "There is nothing else that I can do."

With that said, it left the room, once again leaving Everard alone.

* * *

Doctor Hesena was not someone easily confused. According to the data records on hand, the patient in room four did not exist. Facial scans did not get results, fingerprints could not be taken because of the bulky armor that was stuck on him. He did not exist, he was a ghost. Even Medigel, nutrient-paste and water had to be pumped into him via archaic IV drips. It was one of the most bizarre situations that she had been placed in over a century of working as a doctor.

What was perhaps the most disconcerting was the language he spoke; it took roots from ancient human Latin, and structurally it was similar. However, the words were different. Like a person speaking from a bad microphone, a basic understanding could be taken, but the voice was unclear. She was lucky that the latest translation ads were installed on hospital omni-tools, which could self-decipher differing languages by some means that she was not sure of. According to the extranet, it was a language that did not exist and only another mystery to be solved at a later date. _And I don't even know his name. _

She had set the cameras in the man's room to monitor his healing progress, and the results were astonishing. He had arrived via indescribable circumstances, in life-threatening condition. Apparently he had arrived in some sort of portal into the presidium commons, right in front of restaurants and shops. He lost consciousness soon after. Transporting him to the hospital was another nightmare entirely. But his rate of recovery - even with medigel was far too rapid. The story was spreading across the Citadel rapidly, and various news and broadcasting agencies had the gall to demand interviews with the man in critical condition, and the witnesses. _What a mess._

Still lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize the person standing behind her, holding a pistol at the back of her head.

* * *

Everard her a muffled cough from the hallway outside his room. He tensed.

The doors opened, and another person entered. _Thankfully human. _It was a tall, well-developed female with a black form-fitting body suit that covered her entire body. Two green lenses served as eyes, and in her hand was a small pistol of some sort. She was utterly quiet while entering. _An assassin then. How deplorable._

"It is a sad day when a servant of the Emperor is killed by a cowardly assassin when too injured to fight back effectively." Everard began, "It says much about your heretical master"

The figure laughed, Everard was surprised. It was rich and feminine, and sounded quite amused. "I am not here to kill you, but to give you an offer. When you arrived on the Citadel, I was tasked to investigate. My boss has tabs on every human born in the last century, but then a man like yourself shows up under mysterious circumstances- at the heart of the Citadel - with advanced weaponry and armor. In fact, just from listening from your previous conversations, I believe my boss shares many of your views. Humanity should be the dominant force in the galaxy, not some whelp desperate to please aliens who would rather die than give us real power. I belong to an organization that aims to change that."

Everard was intrigued, "Tell me the name of your organization, if what you say is true, there is hope for humanity in this pocket of heresy."

Although her face was hidden, Everard could feel her smile, "Cerberus. And I have a proposition for you."

Everard grinned dangerously, "Go on, I am listening."

* * *

**Another chapter some what quickly. This is a shorter chapter than what I will aim to post.**

**I am personally sick of the number of 'x' joins Shepherd's crew, and basically becomes another sidekick in a story that follows all the cannon missions. I think deviation proves a more interesting read for everyone. **

**BTW I do not own Mass effect or Warhammer, they are owned by Bioware and Games Workshop, respectively.**

**p.s. I'll explain why the Cerberus agent was on the Citadel in another chapter**


	4. Chapter 4

The black-clad woman was apparently named 'Dawn'_._ That was the only personal information she elected to share. She had informed Everard that his weapons were being held in the storage area of the hospital, waiting until they could be transferred elsewhere. Apparently the Citadel security forces had not taken much notice, or had interest in his Hell Pistol and power sword, but another group had.

"Tell me," Everard asked, while limping away from the hospital bed. Dawn had taken the liberty of removing the hospital staff from the entire floor by means Everard was not the least bit interested in, "Does this Shadow Broker pose a threat to your organization?"

"In some sense," She hummed slightly in thought, "Cerberus has many enemies, but the Shadow Broker is undoubtedly the most dangerous. It is an organization of espionage that can uncover any secret - no matter how guarded - and sells them to the highest bidder. In the past Cerberus has used the Broker's services, and other times, we had been used by them. They shake your hand in friendship, then stab you in the back and defile your corpse after you turn around."

_An eerie reminder to how a cult of chaos operates. _"So how is this relevant to our present situation, Lawson?" Everard was slightly curious, but unworried by the meddling of another secret organization. _None are more dangerous than the Inquisition.__  
_

"They were responsible for the removal and transportation of your weapons to the Citadel docks, most likely to sell them off. They probably have a salvage crew being sent down there as we speak." Dawn added non-nonchalantly, but seemed to be slightly amused at Everard's tightening facial features.

"That cannot be allowed, heretics and xenos will not defile my weaponry. Dawn, how much time do we have until they are taken and shipped off-world?"

"Not much, and even less if you are going to be that slow." She paused, "However, if you wait here, I can retrieve your weapons and meet you again."

"Unacceptable, I do not trust you. For all I know, you would attempt to steal my weaponry and flee afterwards. No, I will accompany you, even at this sedate pace." Everad's tone was grave, brokering no argument or protest from Dawn._  
_

She nodded and easily continued onward, Everad lagged behind her, cursing under his breath.

* * *

It was only a short walk to the elevators, which were thankfully located at the end of the hallway. The only sound made was the subtle whine of Everard's mechanical servos, groaning slightly with ever limp.

The front of the elevator was plain, unmarked and with one bright orange console to the right of the door. _Most likely to control which floors the elevator travels to._ It was somewhat similar to Imperial designs, albeit without incense, tomes or candles to appease the machine spirits. That in itself was enough to make Everard uncomfortable. Dawn pressed the lowest button on the console, and a faint beep could be heard. The elevator was moving towards their floor.

"I find this somewhat ironic," Dawn began, trying to break the silence, " Normally I'm the one with no one knowing my name. But now, I have a true mystery in front of me, a person with no records or history of any kind. So, I guess the first step to solving this mystery is to know your name."

"Why do you need to know my name?" Everard asked, almost bored._ I preferred the silence. _

"I'm the person my boss sends to solve mysteries or bury them. But I've never imagined that someone could be even more of a ghost than myself. "She almost purred," I find it...exciting. A challenge to overcome."

Everad was inwardly disgusted. _A heretic is a heretic, no matter how similar they claim to adhere to Imperial_ _doctrine_. _No matter, their ignorance means nothing to me, and revealing myself as an Inquisitor would not put me at a disadvantage, _"My name is Everad Gerage, of the Holy Inquisition. I am a proud servant of the God-Emperor of Man. The Inquisition is not a hidden order, but one whose power causes the darkest enemies of man to tremble in fear of our retribution. We are the Emperor's will, and our power is absolute." _  
_

"You're an Inquisitor? How fitting" Dawn's body turned slightly, her interest was obviously peaked. She added, "Does that mean that you question and try people for heresy?"

"Correct, we protect mankind from all threats, internal and external."

Dawn seemed to find this amusing, "And you burn those guilty of heresy at the stake?"

"On occasion." _What is so amusing about this? _

Dawn softly laughed, "How ironic." She seemed to relax slightly, "And you serve 'God'?"

"The God-Emperor of man" Everard corrected, "The supreme master of the Imperium, Shepherd of our people."

"God-Emperor of Man? Never heard of him." Dawn added afterwards, "Still, his title seems a little pretentious to me." Everard gave her a smoldering glare.

"He is the savior of mankind. The greatest person to have ever existed, do not mock him with your ignorance and blasphemy." Everard hotly declared, "You, who do not know of even the basics of Imperial history should not befoul Him with your tongue."

Dawn was taken aback, "I've never even heard of this Emperor of yours, not even the faintest of rumors." She tilted her head slightly, and her lens pieces seemed to lose their color, "Look, I'm sorry about slightly insulting the Emperor you serve, but don't hold it against me. I didn't even know he existed."

Everard ignored her rebuttal, and quoted, "Ignorance is no excuse" He was silent afterwards.

The elevator soon arrived, a quick beep alerting them. Without another word, Everard marched inside. Waiting for the doors the close and the chance to retrieve his weapons, and leave this den of xenos.

* * *

The elevator descended quickly, which Everard appreciated. _The sooner I leave this place, contact the Imperium and burn these heretics, the better. _

Dawn was also silent, but her muscles were visibly tensed, as if preparing to spring into action. _Perhaps she is not the calm and collected assassin I first thought. __  
_

After a handful of moments, the elevator dinged and its doors parted. Pale artificial lights caused Everard's eyes to water slightly. The room he was about to enter was large, with high-ceilings, and filled with grey storage crates stacked high. Various markers and colors identified the were placed on the containers, but in a language and configuration that Everard was unfamiliar with. The most prominent was a red cross -which apparently symbolized medical equipment and supplies-something that Everard was highly suspicious of. The storage room itself was empty, deathly white and eerily quiet.

"Ahead of us should be a small table or bench with your weapons on it. The people who transported it here were told to put it in an open area, easy to spot, and then leave afterwards. You should look, I'll watch you back while you're searching." Dawn quietly added, "Be careful."

Everard moved on without a word. Slowly limping towards the room. _A storage area of just medical supplies? Highly doubtful. _Although she claimed that Cerberus had many similarities towards Imperial Doctrine, Everard still did not trust Dawn, let alone the organization she worked for.

During that time Dawn had shifted away, somehow effectively hiding herself effectively in the brightly lite room. Eveard did not waste time trying to search for her. _A skill that reminds me of the __Assassins of the Temple Vindicare , disappearing into their surroundings with swiftness. _Although she lacked the liquid grace of the order of assassin's who trained their entire lives to kill the most heavily defended traitors, heretics and xenos, with a single shot of their exitus rifle.

Everard continued to limp forwards, avoiding the crates of supplies awkwardly. There was a high stack in front of him that presented a frustrating obstacle to him, forcing him to shuffle around them. His lack of mobility was almost as infuriating as it was humiliating._ Dawn is probably amused at my injured state, moving around in this maze makes me feel like a grox trying to navigate a munitions manufactorium._ When he had a sufficient breadth, he pulled his hands on a crate to help move him forward. His strenth -augmented by his armor- almost toppled the entire stack. He cursed, quite loudly. Luckily, directly behind the stack of crates, his weapons were neatly placed on a white table. His power sword was deactivated, and his hell pistol was not powered. Everard allowed himself a small smile. _Thank the Emperor, my weapons appear to be undefiled. _

He grabbed his deactivated power sword, and placed it in his armor, the locking mechanisms held within sheathed it quickly. With his injuries, he was unable to effectively wield it. Instead, he grabbed his hell pistol, and thumbed the activation rune. It hummed with powerful and extremely deadly energies. He turned around to move back to the elevator, when he paused. The doors opened with a hiss, and a large reptilian xeno, hunch-backed and with dark-grey armor covering its body stepped out. Black beady eyes were focused right on him, but it had no visible weapon drawn. Without hesitation, Everard fired his hell pistol. The xenos head exploded in a shower of cooked meat and bone as the high-powered laser entered its skull. It sank down a moment later. _At least my pistol works quite satisfactorily. _

Another hiss came from the opposite side of the room. Everard looked back and readied his gun, the far wall was being raised up. Another large room, with docking clamps and a handful of small ships was exposed. _So this room is linked to another, perhaps for ease of the transportation of goods from the docking area to the hospital, making it almost comically easy to sneak in. _In that time,_ s_everal more xenos rushed in, some were the same large reptilian creatures, some were the same blue skinned xenos, and some were tall, avian creatures with mandibles. They each carried some sort of weapon, and moved with some semblance of professionalism. _Even for disgusting xenos. _When they spotted him, they opened fire. Everard's rosarius shone brightly with each impact, like a small star, blinding the occupants in the room. _Slugs? Are they using auto guns?_ The fire slackened, and Everard returned fire with a manic grin on his face. The avian xeno was the first to fall, its torso exploded as one high-powered laser impacted him. This caused the other xenos to gape in surprise before trying take cover where ever they could, save for two of the larger reptilian xenos, who charged at him thunderously. Everad fired twice.

The rest of the xenos returned fire, his rosarius held strong. To his surprise, some of the bullets appeared to be on fire, while others seemed to be frozen -all of which were thankfully ineffective-and Everard retaliated by firing with even more zeal. Gun fire behind the xenos caused some of them to turn around, and give Everard another opportunity to kill. _Most likely Dawn. Such a useful distraction. _Everard slowly advanced, his hell pistol firing at a slow tempo.

The sound of gunfire slowed, and then stopped, leaving Everard alone. Several xenos lay dead, those who still had faces were contorted in pain. The room stank of ozone and burning flesh. The fire-fight was over far too quickly for Everard's taste. _And I wasn't even truly challenged. How boring. _Still, lamenting about an unworthy enemy was one luxury that Everard occasionally allowed himself.

"Impressive" Dawn's voice rang above him. Everard looked up, and saw her on top of a pile of crates, shimmering into existence. _Most likely some variation of the Cameleoline cloak._"Your pistol was quite deadly, bypassing all of their barriers in a single shot. How impressive."

"Mine are no more impressive than a stick and stone compared to real Imperial fire power, the weapons that can cause continents to shake and armies to be vaporized in a single blast. Although, all weapons are deadly in their own right and my own are no exception. But it seems that you are impressed quite easily with a humble hell pistol" Everard countered, uncertain as to why she had commented on his weaponry, or seemed to impressed by it.

"And your hell pistol- did that fire a real laser? Do you know how it works?" Dawn continued her voice quickening, and easily ignoring Everard's light jab at obvious interest and curiosity towards his hell pistol.

Everard was surprised, "Do you mean to say that your people do not have laser weaponry?"

"Not portable, only ships use them. Mostly as a short range defense against fighters and torpedoes" Dawn jumped down, smoothly landing without a sound, "I take it they are quite common where you are from"

"Quite"

Everard saw her eye lenses gleam, "Fascinating" Eagerly, she gestured with her hand and waved for him to follow her. Everard reluctantly did, only after a moment of pause.

* * *

"The back wall that opened leads directly to the shuttle bays and docking areas- which you may have summarized- and my ship's docked there for the time being. Those aliens you killed back there, those were agents of the shadow broker, and they did us a favor by clearing this entire floor of any docking staff for us. You know, tie up loose ends and all."

"I am perfectly aware of how a group of heretics and scum goes about doing illegal business. I've deal with it far more than I would have liked to"

"You'll have to tell me about it sometime. " Everard hudded, but Dawn continued, "After we get in and leave the Citadel, I'm going to contact my boss. You and him really need to talk, we have a need of people like yourself working with Cerberus."

"I find that plan acceptable," But Everard quietly added, "However, if you intend to deceive me, I will make sure you live just long enough to regret it."

Like she did so often, Dawn ignored this threat easily, placing that warning deep within the recesses of her mind. She walked forwards with confident strides while Everard trailed behind, still limping.

The area just outside the storage room was very wide and far more spacious. It was a single level, well lite and spotlessly clean. Only a handful of vessels were on floor, none of which were any longer than three hundred meters, and all were secured with large docking clamps. long running lights bathed the entire area in a subtle blue glow, not overly bright. One end of the room was exposed to the 'outside' atmosphere of the Citadel, and to a stunning view of the hab structures and high rises along the skyline. It was not as crowded as an Imperial hive city, but that was something that Everard was secretly grateful for. _Meaning less xenos live here that I first thought. _

Dawn gestured to one of the larger vessels in the hanger, "That's our ride, the frigate ahead" _A frigate -__This is a warship? How pathetically laughable. _It was smaller than the tiniest escort Everard had ever seen in his life. Still, he kept his disappointment quiet. The frigate was sloped, angular - not unlike tau craft- it was blue, with black highlights around the exit ports, and white lettering. Although Everard still could not read the language at all. A long row of large, gleaming windows along the hull served to provide the crew with a pleasant view of space, and was a glaring structural weakness in Everard's opinion. Worst of all, he could not see any visible weapons on the vessel. He did not voice his concern about the lack of visible armaments, if anything, he figured that Dawn was well aware of that. _If this was a true frigate, it would have some sort of weaponry. Perhaps concealed?_ _So I suppose this a vessel used for infiltration, used to hide in plain sight, visibly unarmed. Very curious._ _  
_

Dawn approached one of the docking clamps and held a hand to her ear, something clicked in response. She muttered a few words under her breath, and then the clamps around the ship disengaged. A small walkway moved towards one of the port openings, and connected with a silent hiss. Without waiting for Everard, Dawn made her way to enter the frigate, striding quickly across the docking area. Everad was less than thrilled to enter an unknown ship, let alone one crewed by people who seemed to be as mysterious as Dawn. _But I have no choice, leave now- or stay and die. Emperor damn this, I have no alternative at the moment. _

With some hesitance, Everard made his way into the Cerberus-owned frigate.

* * *

The inside of the frigate was startlingly similar to the cramped corridors of Captain Macclesius' Cruiser, although with far more lighting and less human filth. The hall ways were a dark grey metal, the floors were of the same color, giving it a distinct military appearance. Although, on the metal floors, Everard's armored steps made loud-clanging noises that echoed that were most likely heard throughout the ship. Strangely, there were no decorations that adorned the walls, or iconography signifying the frigates past service history. It was if the Captain of this vessel had no pride or respect for it. _Or respect for the Machine Spirit. _The frigate was surprisingly empty. Dawn explained that a large crew was unnecessary to operate it, and was far easier to seal any leaks or informants.

Still, the vessel was small enough to easily navigate. It only took a few minutes to reach the end of the vessel, where Dawn said a Quantum Entanglement Communicator was located. When he had asked what that meant, she merely laughed and asked him to follow. He was lead to a small, dark and circular room. The only furniture was a small table with a holo projector of some sort. No one else was present, save Dawn. She looked at him, waved cheerily, then left the room. The doors sealed with a pneumatic hiss. _  
_

After a moment, A swirl of colored pixels; orange, blue and red formed into the clear picture of a man. He appeared to be middle-aged , with groomed black-haired, and blue artificial eyes. He had strong features, and an intelligent gaze. Currently, he was sitting on an ancient form of a swivel chair, and looked directly at Everard. All-in-all, he commanded attention and seemed to exude charisma. Everad was not the least bit impressed.

"Mr. Gerage, I take it. A pleasure to meet you." The man began, his voice was smooth, "You and I have very similar viewpoints, or so my associates tell me. If I can be direct, and forgive my lack of tact, working together can be mutually beneficial." _Dawn must have already informed him. A smart move on her part._

"I assure you that any similarities you believe us to share are only skin-deep as it were. You and your kind, the ones who crave power for themselves, are only slightly better than the aliens and heretics you supposedly fight against." Everard rebutted, "However, I am not a fool. I know my situation is less than ideal. I am alone, and without allies, bringing retribution to the heretics and xenos of the Citadel government is currently beyond my capacity."

"I do not try to gain power for my own benefit, but for the benefit of all of humanity. I work to bring power back to our race, to give us the respect we deserve as a species. In fact, I assure you that Cerberus shares far more in common with you than you might think." The man paused, "You can call me the Illusive Man, if it appeals to you. Forgive the need for secrecy, but I am a man with many enemies -who are not above using improbably scenarios- to try and destroy me."

"And you may refer to me as Inquisitor, only my most trusted of acquaintances can call me Everard."

The Illusive man stood up, and began to slowly pace about, "I know you don't trust me. That's exactly what I would do in your situation, and what you should do. But you also know that you have no options or choices. There are no alternatives to working with us to get what you want and need. My organization aims to assure human dominance across the galaxy, by any means necessary. Can you say that the Inquisition is dissimilar?"

Everard interrupted, "Be that as it may, only the Imperium can claim dominance in the galaxy. Everything else is delusion at best, and heresy at worse."

The Illusive man continued, unabated, "Even though I have never heard of this 'Imperium', or whatever you call it. The matter is, you would not be able to contact them without our resources, without our help. You know this."

Everard growled, "I know my priorities, I know my position. It would be foolish of me to throw away any chance of returning to the Imperium, and the possibility of destroying the heresies that are symbolized by the Citadel and all who live under its influence.

"And Cerberus can give you those opportunities" The Illusive man countered, "In fact, we can give you the tools to strike out against those who would threaten humanities growth. Just the technology you possess alone could usher in a new golden age of humanity. We could work together to rule the galaxy."

Everard wasn't fooled by this speech, "I am not so naive. You have no true intention of sharing this 'power' you seek, but instead you merely wish to use me like I would use you. But I am given the impression that you need help with another, more immediate matter, otherwise you would not be so insistent to enlist my help.

The Illusive man smiled, "Very Perceptive. You are correct, there is a more immediate threat, far more pressing than the Citadel and its stiffing bureaucracy. There is another alien menace that is currently attacking human colonies. If you work with us against them, we'll help you back. That's the deal. No tricks."

Everard was intrigued, "What kind of threat?"

"One that could spell the end for all life in the galaxy. Tell me Inquisitor, have you ever heard of a Reaper?"

* * *

**That's another chapter -quite quickly by my reckoning. **

**I do not own Mass effect or Warhammer, they are owned by Bioware and Games Workshop, respectively. **

**Thanks for reading.**


	5. Chapter 5

"No" Everard was honestly surprised, and slightly confused "Reapers? I have never heard of anything called that." _For an Inquisitor to not know of a potential threat, how laughable._

"Then let me educate you," The Illusive man began cryptically, "This is from the little information that we know of them; they are a race of ancient, sentient machines that periodically kill and harvest all advanced organic life in the galaxy. They operate in cycles of harvesting approximately every fifty thousand years and almost completely erases all evidence of their existence. No civilization before us has ever stopped them."

"I take it that this knowledge was gained with substantial cost, or perhaps through an inside source. Any information, and more importantly a rough schedule of future invasions, can be considered almost invaluable."

"Not quite," He countered grimly and with a small amount of frustration, "The people in power here are absolute fools. They dismiss this threat as conjecture and wild rumors, ignoring the threat in their face. They will doom us with their stubborn blindness. Only one man had enough influence, charisma and common sense to combat this threat and inspire others to follow him. He is the symbol of human determination, and is our best hope for survival."

"So this man, the symbol of human determination, is one of your agents as well?" Everard was slightly curious. _An asset like that would be incredibly valuable to have, and incredibly useful._

"Truthfully, no." The Illusive Man sighed, "He cannot be controlled, by me, the Alliance, or anyone else. He lets his conscience and petty morals guide his actions and beliefs. He works for the betterment of humanity, but not for Cerberus. In fact, he is openly against Cerberus' ideals and had even fought against us in the past. He lets his trust in aliens, in equality, blind him to the threat that they possess to human dominance. His name is Commander Shepherd, and he is a fool. But a useful fool."

"They be rid of him, surely his usefulness to you must be outweighed by his openly hostile stance towards Cerberus. At best, he is a liability, at worse, he is a threat to your organization." Everard was inwardly disgusted by the lack of control that this man appeared to have over Shepherd._ Letting a heretic move about unopposed, or unleashed, how contemptible._

"It's not that simple."

"Then make it simple. Tell me why you still need him."

"Humanity is currently under attack by an advanced, insect-like race called the Collectors. Thousands have been abducted, entire colonies have been emptied in the past year. Worse, we believe that they are agents of the Reapers, and are currently operating to weaken the entire galactic community before the next harvest. No matter how unideal, Commander Shepherd was the only person we could use to combat this threat, everyone else is too blind to see it. He was so needed that when he was killed by the Collectors years ago, and we had to spend billions of dollars and create miracles to bring him back to fight. No one else would do the job right."

_How unlikely, only the Emperor can bring the dead back to life. What he says is blasphemy._"As heretical and blasphemous as you are, please correct me if I am wrong," Everard mocked, "You spent billions of whatever currency you use, and even created miracles, to resurrect a single human to counteract a galactic menace that threatens you all with extinction? And this man had openly opposed you before? How wasteful and foolish."

"Even though it was not ideal, it is still the best option. The galaxy remembered Shepherd as a hero, and Cerberus needs a hero." The Illusive man seemed to deflate slightly, "But I fear that he's not enough. One man, no matter how great, cannot truly stop the Reapers. They are too advanced, too numerous, and too deadly. You however posses the weapons to destroy them. Reapers have no answer to powerful high-frequency Laser weaponry, and our current models are ineffective against reaper capital ships. It would be an incalculable asset to us, and by extension, the rest of humanity. Even man-portable laser weaponry would revolutionize war forever."

"I assure you, if you help me contact the Imperium, you will get more than laser technology from me. An entire battle fleet can assist you with your struggle against these 'Reapers', and the Citadel species as well." _A most generous offer. One that he does not deserve._

"And then your Imperium would attempt to annex what is left of humanity? No. Finding this Imperium you speak of will take years and resources that Cerberus cannot afford to spend. Work with us, end this threat, and we'll help you. Afterwards."

Everard was getting irritated, "I have offered you far more generous terms than I would have normally offered to heretics like yourself. The Imperium spans the galaxy! A million worlds! Establishing contact with them is your best chance of survival. A thousands warships will destroy any for you face."

"And that is exactly the problem. I have never seen or heard of the Imperium which you speak of. No one has. The Citadel has only mapped approximately one percent of the galaxy over thousands of years. Even if your Imperium did span the galaxy, which somehow seems to be run by humans, it would be impossible to find them in a short amount of time." The Illusive man seemed to become agitated, "Run by Humans? The Imperium you claim runs the galaxy is the Cerberus ideal of a human civilization. What I don't understand is how it can exist. It cannot! Humanity had only been on Earth, our Birthplace. Our home. What you say is impossible."

"What I say is real" Everard growled, infuriated that the Illusive man did not believe in the holy existence of the Imperium, "The Imperium does exist. Finding it is an entirely different matter. In fact, there have been thousands of instances where pockets of humanity and other civilizations were lost in pockets of space, isolated by warp storms and developed for thousands of years. It is likely that the Systems Alliance -and by extension your humanity- is just another instance."

The Illusive man huffed in disbelief, "If they were anyone else, and did not posses portable laser weapons and power armor, I would say they were either crazy or a liar. Hundreds of years had been spent on researching the past. Human history has been traced back thousands of years."

_You stubborn heretic. Disbelief in the Imperium will damn your soul. Ignorance will not save you from retribution. _"Be that as it may, discussions of the past are not relevant at the moment. I will help you against the Reapers, but my offer is contingent in my own autonomy, and that you begin searching for the Imperium immediately. I will not accept any other conditions."

The Illusive man seemed to relax slightly, "Not the most avid of negotiators are you?"

"An Inquisitor rarely needs to be one."

The Illusice Man nodded slowly, "That's a deal that works for me. You can be autonomous and work with Cerberus, much like Shepherd, and we help you find the Imperium."

Everard was slightly pleased with himself, "Those terms are also acceptable for me" Then his voice turned dark, "But if you betray me in anyway, I will make sure that you live to regret it."

The Illusive man smiled dangerously, "So now that our deal is settled, I have the first lead for you to follow. I recently sent Commander Shepherd to freedom's progress, to investigate a recent attack by the Collectors. However, that is not the only colony under attack. The colony New Canton is also under attack by a small force. I want you, and Dawn to investigate his. Use her cruiser, and any means you can to stop it. I leave it to your digression."

The holoprojection ended with a flurry of colors, leaving Everard alone in his thoughts, and some regret. _I think that I've committed heresy._

* * *

"So, how was the meeting?" Dawn's voice seemed quite cheery, considering Eveard's own sullen contrast between her voice and Everard's mood gave him a small headache.

"I have just pledged to work with a heretic against xenos." Everard growled, "I am not in the best of moods right now."

"The good news is that you're working with us." Dawn added mischievously, "And I listened into your conversation with my boss. The ship is already en route to New Canton, and we'll announce where to meet before we deploy. You should probably go to the med bay and rest for a while before the fun starts." She disappeared soon after. _She did no__t even tell me where the Medical facilities were. Absentminded fool. _

So with some pain, Everard limped around the ship, exploring the various hallways. The ship's interior was roughly rectangular, and thankfully only had four levels. The sizes of the rooms increased the further down one went. _Like the ancient pyramids and zygarats of feudal worlds._ When Everard entered the service elevator-with some difficulty- and tried to travel to the top floor, a mechanical voice politely informed him that the deck was reserved for the "Captain only'. The bottom floor was also off-limits, stating that an "Engineer's"or the Captain's permission was required to travel down. So Everard had no choice but to travel down to the second lowest one. The elevator doors opened to a comparatively wide room. Both sides were black, with a white insignia, a Stretched hexagon with two framing lines along its outer edges, that served as a relief. _Most likely the Cerberus insignia._ The far side of the room was outlined in red. _Like the medical crates at the Citadel hospital. _So Everad made towards it. _  
_

Unlike the rest of the ship, this room was populated by at least a dozen or more humans with matching black and white uniforms. The Cerberus insignia was attached to the uniforms shoulder guards. All of which gave him a slight glare as he walked by. Everard did not care for this lack of respect. _They will all be judged by the Emperor in time. _Still, reaching the end of the hallways was not as tiring as Everard originally thought.

The red outlined wall was just a marker for a doorway embedded in it. Everard walked towards it, and the doors opened as he approached. The inside of the room felt cramped, with a smaller ceiling, and a much narrower profile. Only five beds lined one side of the room, and they each had a semi-circular apparatus above of them. A man dressed in the white uniform of an orderly greeted him. He was slightly below the average imperial height, with forgettable facial features. He had grey hair that was neatly combed to his side.

"Dawn told me that you'd be stopping by shortly" The man intoned, somewhat nasally, "I'm Doctor Ruther, and in this room, I have two rules for you: One, if you want me to keep you alive, don't touch my equipment. Two, if you question my methods pf treatment, I will shove your corpse down the air lock. Are we clear?"

Everard was almost insulted by the lack of creativity of Doctor Ruther's threat, but did not voice it. Instead he countered deeply, "I was to come here to rest before the deployment to New Canton. If you would leave me be, that would be conductive to your continued existence."

Ruther bristled, "You're rudeness is quite the endearing trait. I'll keep that in mind the next time you come up for a check-up" But then, he noticed Everard's shoulder injury, where Ballel's daemon sword had almost torn out his pauldron and embedded itself in his body. Immediately, his face softened somewhat, "Let me see your injury."

"Why?"

"It needs to be treated further. An open wound is just begging to be infected"

Everard was unsure. _Never trust a heretic to be anything more than deceitful. But he is correct, maintaining my health and strength will be important when dealing in this den of sin._ "Give me a bandage, or wrapping of some sort. I will attend to my injuries myself."

Ruther seemed to take offense to this, "No. This is my job, I will be the one to treat that, not you." He made his way forward, but stopped when Everard raised his pistol at him.

"Heretic, let me explain this to you. I find your kind revolting. If you attempt to touch or treat my injuries, you will die. This is your only warning" Everard calmly stated, "I suggest that you give me the bandages that I have requested, and then leave, before I kill you."

Ruther sputtered, then quickly left. Everard already felt slightly better. _  
_

When the Doctor did not return after a handful of minutes, Everard sat down on one of the chairs, grabbed a nearby towel and placed it in his shoulder wound, and closed his eyes to relax. He trusted in his armor's auto-healing injectors to being his body back into fighting shape in a timely fashion. _That heretic-fraker did not even retrieve my bandages. _

* * *

"Wake up Eveard" Dawn's voice rang out across a vox system, "Time to rise and shine."

Everard violently shook himself awake. The medical room was empty, Rutehr was nowhere to be seen. _Thank the Emperor,_ But Everard was ashamed of himself for falling asleep in a potentially hostile environment. _Something a Pre-schola Juvie would do, and I am much better than that._ He checked his shoulder, his wounds had clotted nicely. He moved his arms around, and was pleasantly surprised at the range of motion in his arms. It was not at his peak -far from it-but exponentially better than it had been moments ago. With some reluctance, he got up and exited the medical room.

"Eveard, please make your way down to the bottom deck, clearance has already been made for you." Dawn's cheerful voice informed. "And that means hurry up."

_Damn heretic. Ordering a member of the Inquisition about. My colleges would laugh themselves to pieces, then try me for heresy. _The area outside the medical room was empty, all the previous crew were no where to be seen.

Everard tested his physical status, lightly jogging to the elevators at the end of the room. He almost smiled when he reached them. No longer was he cripplingly-injured, just painfully so.

He banged on the activation console for the elevator, and waiting for it to arrive. His feet twitched in anticipation.

After a long stretch of time, the elevators arrived with a beep, and Everard wasted no time in entering. With the same force, he pushed the lowest icon on the console. The elevators closed, and descended at a sedate pace.

The time spent in the elevator felt like an eternity to Everard. The walls were too close, and the ceiling too small for it to be a comfortable ride to him. So when the doors finally opened, he was understandably relieved.

The lowest deck was by far the largest one. The deck served as a hanger of sorts, with a handful of assorted vehicles. Some were fighters of some kind, thin and heavily armed. Others seemed to be floating with anti-grav technology, and looked like rectangular sky cars seen in the Imperium. All had the Cerberus insignia proudly shown in reflective gold. At least three dozen armed personnel stood at attention at the center of the hanger, all in a white and semi-bulky armor with a variety of weapons. They appeared to be confident, something that Everard was pleased with. _If I am fighting with heretics, at least let me fight with their best. I will break that confidence into faith and zeal for the Emperor in time._

One of the sky cars opened, and Dawn waved at him vibrantly, "Everard, good to see you again. Come in, we're waiting for you."

At once, the armed soldiers rushed to board other sky cars. _As a troop transport, it looks flimsy and weak. Perhaps their are other secondary defenses, perhaps like their barrier technology._ Everard jogged to the transport, ignoring the thundering sound of his footsteps in such an enclosed hanger. With one graceful leap, he landed in the midst of Dawn's shuttle, rocking it entirely. It was even more cramped than the elevator, without any windows, and Everard had to crouch down to enter it._ How fantastic._

"Hey now, no jumping in the shuttle." Dawn's voice quietly reprimanded him. "Save your energy for down below."

Only a four other white-armored individuals were in the transport. They never looked directly at Everard, almost ignoring him._ If they are so petty as to ignore me, then they are far less professional and competent then I first thought._ "Dawn," Everard inquired, "Is there any intelligence regarding the forces that we might face at New Canton?"

Dawn immediately supplied, "Not as much as we might like. The colony's original population numbered around thirty thousand -give or take- so there was no substantial defense force. No real fleet either. The worst case scenario; we face Collectors, and we have almost no intel on how they fight or the weapons that they use. Best case, the only opposition would be a handful of security guns or mechs. Either way, not too complicated."

Everrard grunted. He felt the shuttle lift, and had a slight feeling of vertigo, something that had only happened in his youth. _My injuries continue to plague me. Emperor preserve me through the heresies that I am about to partake. _He clasped his hands in prayer, ignoring the stares of the occupants, and Dawn's own amused one. He murmured quietly, "Oh Emperor, redeemer of man, Your servant begs for Your guidance. Lead me to Your will, give me purpose, and the means to smite Your enemies. Give me the strength of arm to defeat any enemy. Give me the piety to stand resolute in the face of heresy. And give me the patience and means to find Your Imperium again. Ave Imperator."

* * *

The shuttle doors opened after an excruciatingly long wait. Everard was the first to leap out onto the ground. His knee servos groaned as his bulk landed from at least ten feet in the air, and in a fluid motion, drew his hell pistol and power sword. Dawn followed soon after with the other Cerberus soldiers. Everard scanned for enemies, targets, or anything that moved, but nothing did. After a few heartbeats, he relaxed. The colony was -in Everard's opinion- small. There were an assortment of single-level hab structures scattered without order across a handful of acres. Only a single road winded down to divide the land into two parts. Some strips of land, farms with green and ploughed fields, were located at some distance away from the main colony, but were abandoned. A scattering of various vehicles dotted the land, all were still whirring as if active. The colony itself was like an agri-world, with a single lazy-yellow sun to keep it warm. No moon was in the cloudless blue sky.

"Dawn, were are the rest of the shuttles deployed?" Everard was confused._ Splitting up your forces against an unknown enemy is not the wisest move to make. A force divided is a force that falls._

"They were sent a couple miles in either direction to other sides of the colony. New Canton is less than forty years old, so the entire population is basically centered in this one area," Dawn said with some spirit," Makes searching for clues a little easier."

"Then can you send two of your men to search the fields around this area? But make them stand ready to assist if needed, and to keep in constant vox contact with regular updates at two minute intervals. You and the other two can search the main colony with me, however, we must keep close. I have a strange feeling in this place."

"Oh, Is the big-bad Inquisitor sacred?" Dawn lightly teased, "Don't worry. I'll hold your hand if you want."

"If you attempt to touch me, you will lose than hand." Everard testily replied, and Dawn laughed at that.

Everard felt slightly insulted that Dawn had ignored his warnings. But ultimately, he did not care if she lived or died. _At least then she would not constantly tease and mock me._ He moved onward, not waiting for Dawn and her escort to follow. In the corner of his eyes, he saw two of the men break away to search the fields, and causing Everard to smile slightly.

* * *

The colony was empty. Deserted and abandoned. Each small hab structure that Everard and his unlikely retinue searched appeared to be untouched. Furniture had unmoved, food was still lukewarm and uneaten, even holoprojectors still ran in some instances. It was something that made Everard's skin crawl. _Is it possible that each resident was somehow abducted at the same time, without struggle? Or perhaps, something so dire threatened them that they had no choice but to abandon all of their possessions and flee at the moments notice. Either way, this is just another investigation to be solved by the holy arm of the Inquisition._

The periodic updates of the other two soldiers as the searched the outskirts of the colony were equally disquieting. Farm machinery was still running, houses were unlocked, no signs of a panicked mass-flee or violent abduction of the colonists.

In New Canton, only one large dual-level hab structure existed. It was easily the largest residence in the entire colony - supposedly for the planetary governor -and had a force of security mechs on the premise. Dawn assured him that they were just a deterrent to robbers and the like, and would not pose a large threat to the group, but Everard was highly doubtful. _Planetary governors always have secrets and heresies that they hide in their residences. Their power corrupts them, one way or another._

When Everard suggested that they search the place, Dawn had protested by explaining how security cameras en-premise would be able to see the Cerberus insignia. If they were transmitting off-planet, it could be a catastrophe for Cerberus' already damaged public reputation. Most likely to cause a stream of rumors linking Cerberus to the abductions of the colonies and bringing about greater persecution from the Systems Alliance. This was something that Everard was not deterred by. _Who cares what the ignorant masses think about the only organization that openly opposes the alien menace. The will die soon enough and be judged unworthy by the Emperor. _So, in the face of Everard's insistence on the search, and with some reluctance, Dawn agreed to it.

Everard kicked open the front door with a lazy expression on his face. The large wooden doors seemed to explode from the impact. Dawn and the other two Cerberus soldiers were stared at Everard for a moment, the continued on with some degree of professionalism. Albeit with some amount of muted awe.

"Clear," Everard growled, his hand traveled to his hell pistol, thumbing the activation room. Without pause, he marched in.

The interior of the building was extravagant compared to the rest of the colony, but not overly impressive. The doorway opened to a long and wide hall, with various entrances to small cubicles on either side. The walls were a drab white, with streaks of grey highlights. Long, rich and handwoven tapestries adorned the wall on either sides at regular intervals. On this floor, there were no windows. At the end of the hallway, a flight of well-lite stairs lead upwards to the next level.

"Dawn, we need to search each room. Anything suspicious- signs of violence, audio logs or reports- bring to my attention immediately. The longer we take, the slimmer the chance of finding any kind of sign."

She seemed to agree and moved swiftly into one of the rooms. The other two did likewise and each went into another. Their quiet efficiency was something that Everard approved of.

He walked into the first cubicle. It was small and bare. A single wooden desk with a flickering lamp was the only furnishing. He looked around the floors, walls and ceiling. _Empty, devoid of any signs of life. _

The search on the main floor was fruitless. Nothing of any value was found, as if someone had cleaned the entire colony of any clues. However, Everard was not deterred in the slightest. He had informed Dawn and her compatriots that anything worth hiding would be worth finding. With that small encouragement, he made his way up the stairs.

His rosarius shone brightly. The roar of several auto turrets echoed throughout the building, slugs fired everywhere tearing holes in the walls. Everard stepped backwards, cursing loudly. He was slightly embarrassed at how startled he was by simple slugs. Luckily, Dawn did not tease him about it. _For now._ With far more composure, Everard peaked back in, and fired his hell pistol with gusto. In a matter of moments the auto turrets were destroyed, as well as two humanoid security mechs. Everard's hell gun whined in disappointment.

The second floor was just a single large and wide area. A row of holo consoles surrounded the perimeter of the room, casting it in an orange and blue glow. Three smoking machines- the remains of the auto turrets- were located on either side of the room, and one mounted to the ceiling. The two mechs lie destroyed by the front of the room. It was as empty as the rest of the colony, and Everard was more frustrated than anything else. "Dawn, search the room. There must be something in here if it is untouched."

She had arrived with her escorts some time ago, and quickly made her way to one of the data consoles. Her hands raced swiftly across the holo keyboard, creating a rapid-clicking noise that Everard found to be quite annoying.

Everard searched around the room mechanically, scanning the walls, floors and ceilings for anything. It was untouched, abandoned, and even had the security measures still active. This caused Everard's eyes to narrow, and hum in thought. _How could something cause either a mass flee, or abduction without any signs to accompany it. __  
_

"Everard" Dawns voice rang out, satisfied, "I found something." Everard made his way to the console, with no small amount of eagerness. When he arrived, Dawn pressed on symbol, and promptly an dark and blotchy image was displayed on screen.

"What is this supposed to resemble?"

"It's a video," Dawn responded, "Be patient and watch."

With another press, the image began to dark and blotchy image transformed into an outside view of the colony. The same cloudless sky, the same buildings and even the same weather, but with some colonists on-screen. "This was four hours earlier today, about at the same time the Illusive Man received word of the disappearance," Dawn informed, "The video doesn't last much longer than this."

There was no audio in the video, making the entire room eerily silent. The colonists were walking along the side roads, into buildings or exiting them. It was disturbingly normal. After a handful of seconds, some of the colonists looked off screen and pointed, others started to panic. They all tried to run to the closest buildings, and close the doors. At that moment, a dark shadow went over the camera taking the video. It moved across the colony like a wave, entering the buildings and spreading around the colony like a resolution of the video was sufficient for him to make out small details in the black swarm. _Insects, a swarm of flying insects._ The video cut out soon after, leaving Everard with more questions. _What were those things? In what way are they responsible for the disappearance of the colonists - perhaps via consumption -and are they still on the planet?_

Dawn appeared to be equally confused. "Everard, do you know what those are by chance? Because I have never seen something like that before."

"No. There is another insectoid race that I know of, but they do not employ a swarm of small insects to invade colonies, nor leave the planet's biomass uneaten. What about the other Cerberus troops scanning the outskirts of the colony? Have they discovered anything useful?" Everard inquired, frustrated at the lack of leads to go on.

"I already asked, nothing else has been discovered. Whatever those were, how they made the colonists disappear in a short time is still unknown. I'll send this footage to Cerberus, get our techies to analyse it as quickly as they can" Dawn placed a hand under her chin, "Hopefully they can uncover just what happened here."

Everard sighed quietly. _If only Magos Heliah were here, his aid would be most useful here._ "Dawn, tell the rest of the detachment to regroup on the frigate, this mission was unsuccessful. We need to find another trail."

Dawn nodded and motioned for the other two Cerberus soldiers to follow her, leaving Everard alone in the room to contemplate what had happened here.

* * *

"So Inquisitor," The Illusive Man began, "There was no sign of the colonists, save for the short video that Dawn had sent me. And it appears that a swarm of insects was all the cameras could see?"

"Correct."

He sighed, "That's exactly what Shepherd forwarded me an hour ago. The same thing happened at Freedom's progress. It appears that the insects that you have seen on tape are creatures that encase people that they touch in a type of stasis field, and allowing that Collectors to take them away without resistance. Something that we currently have no defense against."

"Do we have any leads to go on? Anything that can take the fight to them?"

The Illusive Man smiled grimly, "We believe that the Collector's base of operation is in the Omega Four Relay. No ship has ever returned from it, and I'm hesitant to send in any of my forces without proper intelligence. On the other hand, I'm using all of Cerberus' resources to search for more signs of the Collectors."

Everard's brows tightened, "Then we have nothing to do until either you find something, or they move out. Depressing."

"Not entirely." The Illusive Man interjected, "Shepherd is currently on Omega, recruiting the best of the galaxy as tools to be used. However, what he doesn't know is that I'm using him as bait to lure in the Collectors."

"I do not know what Omega is," Everard smiled, "But I understand your meaning. How soon do you think they will wait before they hunt?"

"Very soon. I've already started leaking information to them." His holo image clasped hands, "Hopefully they will be in a position to ambush him in Horizon. For now, we wait and build up strength. By the way, I have two sets of probes to scout unexplored space, with more the be sent in time. If they find anything resembling your Imperium, I will contact you as soon as possible."

"Then I will start my own investigations regarding these Collectors. Keep me contacted if there are any more developments worth mentioning, specifically targets to be eliminated." Everard concluded. _Though I still do not trust you, or your manipulative mindset. Caution will be my most important tool in the coming days._

* * *

**That's another chapter. I aim to continually improve my writing style and kill time by writing fanfiction, and any feed back is greatly appreciated.**

**In the future I'll probably make Everard less whiny or critical because it makes him seem like a whinny-little wimp (or something close to it) ****And of course, longer battle scenes. I don't think that a paragraph or two does justice to what could be an entertaining read.**

**I do not own Mass effect of Warhammer, they belong to Bioware and Games Workshop, respectively.**


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